Delusional
by Seaborgium
Summary: Pit had always wondered if a person could completely snap from so much emotional stress. Could it ever be possible? Well... he sure got his answer. Semi-IkexPit. WARNING! Ike fans, I suggest you don't read.


**Disclaimer: Pit, Ike, and the Super Smash Bros. Series is © to Nintendo. I don't claim any ownership of this except for the fanfiction itself.**

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Screaming. Coarse, penetrating screaming that sounded like agony. Or despair. Or, maybe even fury. It was hard to tell. Maybe it was both. Or maybe it was neither. Could a person scream in such a seething way, intentionally?

No one could ever know for sure unless they were the one crying out in the beginning.

Adolescent fists intertwined around the leg of a small foot stool, gripping so tightly, his knuckles turned white. For somebody so heavenly, so innocent and pure, not a soul could ever produce such a barbaric image of him going through this traumatic nervous breakdown. In the presence of all the other smashers in the mansion, he gave off such a joyful, bubbly aura, which everybody had appreciated and loved so dearly. Everyone else was tricked into thinking, that those web of lies were his true personality; that Pit was a cheerful, upbeat angel full of mischief and adventure. Just like he showed the public.

Oh, how _foolish_ and _gullible_ they all were. Ignorant, stupid people who didn't suspect a single clue. Thinking that every word he had spoken was the truth, and nothing but the truth. Simply because he was an angel descended from the heavens.

Silly people. There was a specific reason why he had been tossed out from up above in the first place.

As the angel breathed in wavering breathes, like the simple matter of air was too hard and dense for Pit to handle, the mental picture of _him_ spontaneously materialized in his thoughts. _His_ welcoming smile, _his_ magnificent blue hair that he always left in a ruffled mess. Those words of "I love you" he told Pit so long ago, and the child so stupidly believed. The fallen angel actually thought that he had meant everything he told him. That they would be together, forever. That he would always stand by his side, and be the shoulder that Pit could cry on in his greatest need.

In the end, it all turned out to be nothing but a domino effect of lies. A fake. A phony. Just a mask to disguise his greedy ways.

"I... I HATE YOU!" He screeched out another cry of grief, and hauled the object across the room with all of his might. As the fragile stool met contact with the thick bedroom wall, it harshly splintered into broken pieces and fell down to earth. Pit stared down at the minor destruction he had intended to create, taking the shattered artifact in. Replaying the scene in his mind nonstop. Longing to deal such damage to a living being, any living soul. Especially that arrogant, cocky mercenary. Oh, how Pit would love to make him wither in pain, to drown him in all of his mournful sadness and blood the youth had spilled in the past...

But, he knew, that this miniature deed did none to satisfy his hunger enough. His satanic hunger of hatred, sadism, mockery. Pit wanted more. And he, unfortunately, had no remedy to cure his sinning ways.

So filled to the brim with fury that he was actually trembling in rage, he spun around on his heel and reached for the first thing he saw: the bedroom lamp. Clenching it in his one fist, the fallen angel hurtled it against the floor in infuriating anger, screeching as he did so. The whole thing crashed on the wooden floorboards, and completely broke. He clawed off all the blankets, sheets, and pillows from his bed and carelessly scattered them across the ground as if they were nothing but garbage. Without even realizing it at first, he began to sob against his own will, the salt-filled tears blurring his vision and preventing the boy from seeing his surroundings too clearly.

He was going mad, he knew, but was too blinded by his venomous emotions to even notice his moral values any longer. To see the difference from right and wrong. Hell, to even remember how a civilized person was supposed to act like.

Any little trinkets that he had kept, such as books, silverware in the cabinets, a clock, the TV, the table and chairs, and everything else that was left untouched was now never to be repaired again. Demolished in intent by the adolescent angel, who was, unfortunately, going crazy. He grunted and shrieked, annihilating everything that he was able to extinguish into useless fragments. Anything that allowed itself to be his toy.

Pit could feel his head throbbing tremendously, having so much pressure locked up inside that he thought he might just _explode_ from it all. Pit's heart pounded in his chest so arduously, he knew it would burst out any moment and send a river of blood splattering all over his small bedroom. Another pattern to add to his vile work of a collage.

Not hesitating, or stopping even once, the angel abided to destroy anything he could that was in arms reach. Anything that he could break, or harm, as long as it contributed in relieving the pain that he kept locked inside for so long. All of the distress that he let pile up inside from everything that life seemed to throw at him, and the events that took place with him and Ike. That disgusting, nauseating piece of filth that he had spent countless hours bickering and arguing with. The man who deceived him in to a relationship, robbed Pit of everything he once had, and then left him thrown back into his state of depression.

His eternal enemy.

Screaming violently, the fallen angel pounded his fist into the wall with the last bit of remaining strength he had left. For a slight moment, the whole room quivered, and pictures and paintings hanging delicately all around ended up damaged on the floor. Still weeping loudly, the angel fell to his knees in prostration, now transferring from anger to remorse. His fist that he had used to attack the wall with was bleeding and throbbing with pain. Surrounding the boy, every item that was standing had now been useless pieces scattered across the ground. Everything around him was dead, destroyed, and no longer anything, any more. That amazing rush he had felt from the adrenaline coursing throughout his veins now changed into deep regret. And, after all of this, he felt even worse than before.

Still curled in tightly, the youth discovered a medium-sized shard from his dresser mirror lying not to far away from his body. Without requiring much thinking, he snatched the fragment up from the floor, creating minor cuts on his palm due to the glass's sharpened edges, and held it up to his face. In the darkness, it was hard to see with nothing else but the pale moon for a light source, but the adolescent managed to adjust. After taking not long to study, Pit did no attempt to hold back the sudden cry of shock that escaped from his sore throat.

Those once snow white wings he wore on his back, which had been a beautiful gift from the Gods above, had faded into an ugly, scorched black color. All of his feathers were deliberately molting off, one by another, like snowflakes drifting down from the atmosphere. He was unraveling, falling apart. Loosening at the seams. Pit's blue azure eyes he used to bear were, oddly, a new shade of bronze. The expression he bore on his face was plastered with nothing but an amuck aspect, mixed with mourning, fear, hopelessness, and stained rivers of tears. His toga was tattered with holes and blood, with his skin an unusually paler color than how it normally appeared. It was so unhealthily white, it seemed almost transparent.

Pit silently wondered to himself, if this is the effect it had on all humans that went mad. If their body and mind began to break apart and die inside in such a leisurely fashion.

...Then again, he wasn't human. He was a mystical creature created in the sky.

This type of behavior doesn't happen to humans. Only to him, for he was nothing but a freak. Abnormal. Strange. Something weird, apart from everybody else here, who had originated from this world.

"No..." Pit whispered, finding it harder than before to even speak properly. He shook his head lightly in disbelief, not trusting the reflection that stared right back at him. This couldn't possibly be himself.

It wasn't. It couldn't. He refused to believe it.

He continued to stare, not once straying his now butterscotch orbs away from this new angel's countenance. He remembered once, back in Angel Land, when he was still "innocent and purified" as they would say, how Palutena discussed with him what had happened when an angel dies. Pit had pondered about that question for so long, but could never find a decent enough answer.

He could still remember her saying how when, if an angel became utterly disordered or committed an unhealthy amount of sins, how the spirit of innocence would slowly crumble into pieces until it was no more. Absolutely nothing. The said angel wouldn't even return back to Angel Land, either. Instead, the lost soul would drift down to the very depths of Hell itself. A place Pit never dreamed once of going, up until now.

"Please, Pal...utena.." he softly prayed to his Goddess up above, before it was too late. "F-for..give me... I ha..have do-done wrong... I... please...I d-don't... want to..-"

Struggling to speak correctly, the cynical angel tried so hard to form a complete prayer to his Goddess above. To ask her for forgiveness. To find a possible way to save him, and not be thrown into the most dreadful place he was so frightened of heading to next. To safely return back to Angel Land, if he was allowed to, again.

Not too long, the entire bedroom fell quiet. Not a sound stirred, not a breathe breathed. Nothing else was alive.

The remaining hours of the night continued on with no more interruptions to be made.

The only thing that had been left behind by the youth, was a mass of black feathers dispersed all around the small area in many multiple locations. Especially the rather large heap located next to where the mirror shard was lying, once again. The whole place still remained entirely destroyed, appearing as if a tornado had viciously attacked the area.

All the events that occurred in Pit's bedroom stayed the same. Crashed and broken.

Except for the angel, the cause for this whole private riot, was long gone. Already faded away from Earth, to only God knows where.


End file.
